It happened so fast.

A carpet of frost is unfurled.

Each twig, each blade

Has a silver sheen.

Each tree has donned its lace.

Cold mist hovers wraith-like in the air.

The sun will not show its face.

Jack Frost had capered

Throughout the night.

With a pallete of crystals he painted.

Leaving us this frozen day

And poor birds cold and wanting.